CURE Childhood Cancer Annual Report 2013-2014

c u r e ch i l d h o o d ca n c e r 2013-2014 a n n ua l r e p o r t
ANA’S story
“Telling Your Child She Can Let Go is the Hardest Thing
We Have Ever Done.”
— Ana’s parents
No one tells the story of Ana Hardt better than her
mother, Diana. She shares, “Ana was seven and had
just started second grade. It was September 2010. I had
started to notice Ana’s inability to run, falling down
more and more, a weakness on her left side, heavy, loud
breathing. I thought she was possibly experiencing a
stroke. Our doctor told us to rush to Scottish Rite in
Atlanta immediately. We knew it was serious.
Ana would go on with a normal life. She would
have a graduation, go to college, and even have a
wedding. But in October 2011, my husband Chuck
and I noticed a few issues creeping back — the
slurring, falling down, declining stamina, even the
horrible heavy/loud breathing. The terror was back,
and it cut our hearts like a knife. Ana was at month
thirteen since her diagnosis.
Then a CT scan. The doctor told us that Ana had a
brain tumor. We were in shock. A bomb had been
dropped on us, our emotions were crushed, the crying
was nonstop. The doctor informed us there would
be no surgery; this type of cancer isn’t curable. Most
children don’t make it past 12 to 18 months. But he
informed us of a clinical trial going on that he wanted
Ana to participate in. The pain, fear, anger, guilt and
confusion set in. Our minds were going 100 miles an
hour. Why is this happening? Surely something can be
done. Tell us this.
November 2011 and another MRI. Our fingers were
crossed. Then the sinking news — there was no more
hope. A month later, we were told that Ana may only
last a few more months. We cried until there were no
more tears. We asked over and over: ‘What did we
do to deserve this?’ We pulled it together to break
the news to Ana’s brother and sister, Nick and Abby.
We relayed their messages to Ana and it seemed to
comfort her. We talked of heaven and being together
there. Then cancer took our baby girl. And we cursed
the horror of it.
By December 2010, Ana was barely able to walk;
she barely smiled or talked. She was so depressed.
It was heartbreaking. We would no more catch our
breath when another issue would start. And another
and another. No matter how sick she became, Ana
would smile and say, ‘I’m good.’ In January 2011, we
started double chemo. Ana started to walk again,
even run. She could use her arm and leg again. The
feeling of being normal was so comforting to her.
Ana would be the first child to beat this strain of
disease. That’s what we forced ourselves to think.
We walked in a fog for weeks. The ache follows us
everywhere. But we go on, as does the world. We
eventually found a new norm. We see things a little
differently. We accept more flaws. We help those in
need more quickly. We think of the good memories.
Ana was brave, she was strong, she was happy. And
she was loved and is missed by everyone. And to those,
Ana is saying with that smile, ‘I’m good’.”
Some children are destined to be stars. Some are called
higher — to be angels.
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